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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26814667">paint a picture for you and me (on the days when we were young)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiebenn/pseuds/josiebenn'>josiebenn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Miss Congeniality AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Percy Jackson and the Olympians &amp; Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(eventual) Friends to Lovers, Annabeth Chase-centric (Percy Jackson), Elementary School, Extremely light angst, Filipino Percy, First Meetings, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:26:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,084</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26814667</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiebenn/pseuds/josiebenn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>The newbie’s features are steely, but his red-rimmed eyes betray him as they threaten to spill over. Sloan crowds him until he’s backed into the tire wall, and Annabeth, having deduced what’s happening, takes the lull in insults and rebuttals as a chance to defuse the situation.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Problem, gentlemen?” she asks, coolly.</em>
</p><p><em>“Hey, dork brain!” Sloan greets. </em> Original. <em> "If you weren't a girl, I'd beat your face off.” </em> </p><p> <br/>or, Sloan is a bully, Annabeth wants to be cool, and Percy has soft hair. Exclusively in that order.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Miss Congeniality AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955710</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>paint a picture for you and me (on the days when we were young)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey, ao3! i really hope you'll enjoy reading! i would like to thank a random harambe stan on discord for beta-ing my first oneshot. title is from 2002 by Anne-Marie. i blanked, as one does when they're put on the spot. take a shot every time i reference dark eyes. jk you'll Die</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Annabeth Chase blames her career choice on her step-mother, who gets her a Nancy Drew novel for her 9th birthday. </p><p><em>Since you enjoy being a smart-ass so much, </em>Helen Chase seems to say, <em>here</em>. <em>Enjoy a book that's 3-5 reading levels higher than yours.</em></p><p>Joke's on her, though. Spite is the most powerful motivator, and Annabeth falls in love with George Fayne immediately. Not Bess Marvin, not Ned Nickerson, not even Nancy Drew herself, but George Fayne. Because George is awesome. She’s a brunette, which makes her the best automatically, but she’s also boyish and so cool. She never wears makeup; she always wears pants whenever she can because they’re comfortable, which Annabeth can relate to. Pants are the best. George is the best.</p><p>Annabeth can relate to Nancy, though. Nancy’s mom is dead. Nancy’s dad is always busy. Nancy has to solve all the mysteries and get into all the trouble. Nancy always does what’s right.</p><p>Annabeth wants to look more like Nancy, but what kind of hair color is titian, anyway?</p><p>The book is still open, but her eyes don’t flit across the words anymore. They stay on the space above a random <em>said</em> as Annabeth reflects, and she is startled out of her Nancy Drew reverie by classmates shouting multiple variations of, “They've got one!” and “They’re fighting!” while running toward the jungle gym. She looks over to where Matt Sloan and his cronies are pushing around the newbie, and it doesn’t look like much of a fight to her.</p><p>Weather-wise, it’s a fine end of the second day in third grade, and absolutely nothing interesting happened in class, or recess, or lunch. The only homework Miss Sy leaves for them is writing down name suggestions for the class’ guinea pig. It's objectively easy, even by Sloan standards, so she doesn’t understand why he's picking on the newbie.</p><p>Feeling a little too much like Nancy Drew, Annabeth leaves her book on the bench and goes over to investigate.</p><p>“What’s the matter, Jackson?” comes Sloan’s mean voice. “Gonna cry for your mommy?”</p><p>“His mommy’s too busy scrubbing my toilet to fetch him on time!” Joe Bob guffaws.</p><p>The newbie pushes Joe Bob forcefully to the ground. “She’s not a housekeeper!” His fists are balled and his features are steely, but his red-rimmed eyes betray him as they threaten to spill over. Sloan crowds him until he’s backed into the tire wall, and Annabeth, having deduced what’s happening, takes the lull in insults and rebuttals as a chance to defuse the situation.</p><p><em>Be like George.</em> “Problem, gentlemen?” she asks, leaning back on the wooden climbing plank.</p><p>“Hey, dork brain!” Sloan greets. <em>Original.</em> “If you weren't a girl, I'd beat your face off.”</p><p>“Yeah?” challenges Annabeth, a blue-belt in judo who, even if she doesn’t know the word sexism, is already sick of it. “If <em>you</em> weren't a girl, I'd beat <em>your</em> face off.”</p><p>Sloan looks confused. “Are you calling me a girl?”</p><p>“You called me one!”</p><p>“Oh, you asked for it.”</p><p>He pulls his arm back for a punch, which Annabeth anticipates. She dodges, and Sloan’s hand hits the wood behind her. She takes advantage of his pain and stomps on his foot, then delivers a punch of her own. Her knuckles sting <em>a lot</em> and she thinks she popped her shoulder, but she’s feeling really cool. George Fayne would be so proud.</p><p>“Now get outta here!” she yells, and they run away.</p><p>She goes back to her bench and parents continue to fetch their children, until it’s just her and the newbie, who has curled up into a ball during the fight and has stayed like that since. Annabeth still hasn’t finished a chapter, so probably only a short amount of time has passed.</p><p>She walks back over to find him tugging at the grass and she holds out her hand. “Forget those guys. They're dumb and they lack parental guidance,” she says as she pulls him up.</p><p>He straightens up and only reaches her nose. His dark hair looks really soft and Annabeth is jealous. She wants dark hair.</p><p>“It would’ve been cooler if you broke his nose,” he complains as he dusts himself off, and Annabeth begins to seethe. This kid is unbelievable. He has dark hair and she saves him from Matt Sloan and she doesn’t even get a thank you?</p><p>“How ‘bout I break <em>your</em> nose?!”</p><p>He seems to mull it over, before exclaiming excitedly, “Yeah, go for it!” His sea-green eyes are bright and his happiness is baffling.</p><p>Annabeth isn’t sure how to proceed.</p><p>“Why?” she asks incredulously, unable to help herself, because the only reason Annabeth is fine with her general audience violence is because there’s never any blood. She isn’t squeamish or scared of it; she knows what’s going to happen to her body in roughly three years because of all the biology textbooks in Helen's part of the library. But the idea that she’s capable of causing such pain and damage… unnerves her. Especially if it’s undeserved.</p><p>She watches the kid’s eyes darken, and Annabeth finds that she doesn’t want to make him angry. “None of your business,” he says, tugging his shirt down.</p><p>She also realizes she should probably stop calling him kid. At least out loud. Or until she knows what his name is.</p><p>“But what kind of kid—uh, I mean person—wants to get their nose broken on purpose?” she presses, focusing on more important concerns.</p><p>The kid waves his hand dismissively and Annabeth frowns. They make their way back to her bench, and they introduce themselves, finding that they are the same age, but she never would’ve guessed it because she is so much taller than he.</p><p>Percy Jackson thanks her for saving him from Sloan and tells Annabeth Chase that he needs to pee, and they are almost to the bathroom when they are stopped by a pot-bellied teacher with a leopard-print shirt.</p><p>“Mr. D,” Annabeth greets the counselor respectfully. She elbows Percy and he yelps. “Afternoon, sir.”</p><p>“Annabelle. Peter. Why are you still here?”</p><p>“Dad’s late sir,” Annabeth grumbles. “As usual.”</p><p>Mr D hums in recognition, looking incredibly bored. “And you?”</p><p>“Mom’s late too, sir.”</p><p>Mr. D sighs. “Alright. Well Peter, you look very uncomfortable. Is Annabelle bullying you? I already have reports on the incident with Manny Stone in the playground earlier. Do I need to tell your parents?”</p><p>Annabeth scoffs loudly. “Sir, Sloan was bullying Percy!”</p><p>“No, sir! I'm okay. I'm fine. No need to tell them,” Percy says, at the same time.</p><p>“Fine. But I am contractually obliged to tell you: you can come to my office anytime. Now, go wait for your parents quietly.”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” they reply.</p><p>"It means he <em>has</em> to tell us," Annabeth explains once they were out of earshot. "That's what 'contractually obliged' means."</p><p>"I knew that. Like in his contract. He has to say it because he's a counselor so we go to him with our problems. But they can't do anything if there's no proof," he mutters darkly.</p><p>Annabeth is even more intrigued by this short, brown, dark-haired kid. Person. Percy steps into the empty little boys' room, and Annabeth follows him.</p><p>“Whoa! What are you doing?!” he cries, and Annabeth stifles a giggle at his wide sea-green eyes and reddening cheeks.</p><p><em>Stay professional, Annabeth.</em> “I'm getting answers," she states importantly, sticking her chin in the air. "Why don’t you want your parents to know Matt was bullying you? Why did you want me to break your nose? Why was he picking on your mom? What did you mean when you said 'they can't do anything if there's no proof?'”</p><p>Percy crosses his arms. “Why do you ask so many questions?”</p><p>“I’m gonna be a detective,” she brags, mirroring his pose.</p><p>“A detective? Like the Hardy Boys?”</p><p>“No,” Annabeth scoffs. “Like Nancy Drew!”</p><p>Percy pulls a face. “Hardy Boys are better.” Then he walks to the urinal and begins… doing his business.</p><p>Even with an admittedly valid reason, Annabeth does not appreciate being ignored, so she tips her head all the way towards the ceiling and steps right next to him, ignoring his protests for privacy. “The Hardy Boys are lame!" she shouts to the ceiling. "Now answer the question or I'm telling Mr D!”</p><p>“Don’t be a tattler, Annabeth Chase,” Percy whines warily.</p><p>“It’s tattle<em>tale</em> and I wouldn’t have to if you would just answer me.” Annabeth hears the zipping up of his pants and relaxes her neck. "Wash your hands."</p><p>“I was <em>gonna," </em>he says as he passes her to get to the sink. "What was the question again?”</p><p>There are a lot. But instead of going through all of them again because truthfully, she’s forgotten some (as one does when they’re put on the spot), Annabeth thinks she should start with the most interesting one so she can know quicker.</p><p>“Why did you want me to break your nose?”</p><p>The room grows quiet, save for the rush of the water running as Percy washes his hands, and Annabeth is starting to regret her question of choice. Maybe she should’ve started with an easy one. There’s a build-up to these things, right? Can you take back a question? Has Nancy Drew ever gone through something like this?</p><p>Percy shuts the water off and faces her, but he doesn’t look her in the eye, and Annabeth doesn’t know what to expect. “After my dad died," he starts, and Annabeth's eyes bug out a little, "my mom married this really gross guy, Gabe. He always stinks and drinks”—he smiles a little and she thinks it’s because of the rhyme, and then his expression turns pained as he continues—”and he’s so mean to her, but my mom won’t leave him. And I think he’s hitting her when I'm not there.” He looks angry and his dark eyes come back. "I saw bruises on her side last week."</p><p>Annabeth nods slowly. “So you’re gonna use your broken nose to get rid of him.”</p><p>“I'm gonna try.”</p><p><em>It’s a good plan,</em> she thinks, and she tells him so. “I can be the concerned classmate and report it to Principal Brunner so it’s more believable. And you would play the beated stepson and the police would rescue you and your mom and you’d be safe. And happy.” Annabeth hopes that they won’t need any more proof because her hand is still sensitive after the fight with Sloan and she doesn’t think she has enough strength in her. She runs a hand over her knuckles as she continues to think.</p><p>“I can’t punch you today,” she reasons, “because then Gross Gabe”—the side of his mouth quirks up at this—“will know and it’ll mess everything up, so I’ll punch you tomorrow. Can you be here early?”</p><p>It is silent again and Annabeth is doubting everything she just said and Nancy Drew probably never had to do anything like this before.</p><p>His eyebrows scrunch together. “Okay.” He leans against the tiled bathroom wall and slides down, rage gone. He tilts his head up to lock eyes with her. “Do you think it’s gonna work?” His voice is small and Annabeth remembers he’s only nine years old.</p><p>“Yeah.” She pats his head. She’s right, his hair is soft. “I do.”</p><p>Annabeth’s dad is in the car waiting for her as they exit the school as unlikely allies, and he asks how her day has been.</p><p>“They found a snake in Percy's lunchbox,” she lies for practice, testing the taste of it on her tongue. She doesn’t mind it so much. “That’s what we were talking about earlier.”</p><p>He hums in response, disturbingly nonchalant. He’s probably not even listening. “I’m sorry for being so late, sweetheart. I know you’ve been lonely since Thalia transferred schools. I’ll come earlier from now on, I promise.”</p><p>She stares out the car window, at the sidewalks and leaf piles and passing houses, and she wonders if the people inside are hiding secrets like Percy’s. She wonders if they have anyone to help them, anyone to lie like she and her dad are lying, because they really do mean well.</p><p>She wonders if helpers always have to lie.</p><p>Annabeth doesn’t like that thought, so she answers with the truth this time. “It’s fine, Dad. I’ll be fine.” She smiles softly. “I think I have a friend now.”</p><p>Then she asks if Great-Auntie Hestia still works with Family Services and Annabeth practices her crying that night too.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>lmk what you think! you can comment or say hi on my tumblr (hyllatwicekill) and we can yell about percabeth together :) stay safe kidz!!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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